“I would assume she was tied to a chair,” Caleb said clinically.
“Look, I’ve never worked forensics. I was a surgeon, but I know the human body, and I know a little about interrogation techniques. If you asked me, right now, I would tell you that this young woman was tortured. Given the relative restraint of the violence, I would suspect that the man torturing her was a professional in search of something, information most likely. When he couldn’t get it out of her, he sliced her throat in a manner that would result in a very quick death. He then tossed her body in the river, which is sitting at roughly fifty degrees.
That kind of cold masks time of death, and due to the depth and speed of the water flow, we can’t know where the crime took place. If Teeny hadn’t found the pack, we wouldn’t know if she’d been here or somewhere upriver.”
“Logan and I have a grid to search all along the valley. Zane’s down there now with Rye Harper. If we find anything that could tell us where the dump took place, it could help.” Nate’s eyes had taken on that steely look he got when he was doing serious police work. It wasn’t hard to remember Nate Wright had once been a top DEA agent. Zane had been the same. Bliss might be a small town, but it had its share of veteran law enforcement.
The door to the clinic’s waiting room opened, and one of those former law enforcement employees walked in. Laura Niles looked slightly flustered, an adjective Stef almost never used for the cool blonde. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes narrowed as they honed in on Nate.
“I have been looking all over the town for you, Sheriff.” Nate’s eyebrows climbed his forehead under the brim of his Stetson. “It’s been a long morning, Laura. Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions. You used to profile for the FBI, right?”
Laura had been one of their top profilers until an incident that caused her to walk out on a high-paying job. She’d found her way to Bliss, and now the Harvard-educated psychologist rang up tourists buying gas at the Stop’n’ Shop. She ran her perfectly manicured hands through her blonde hair, and if she had any problem standing in a room with a corpse, she didn’t show it. She’d barely looked down at the body, but now she let her eyes roam over it, a cool professionalism falling over her like a cloak.
“You want my opinion about this?” She stared at the body as though it was a thing rather than former housing for a soul. Stef couldn’t quite wrap his brain around it, but then he hadn’t worked for years in a job where death was all around him. Laura, he’d discovered, had made a name for herself by hunting serial killers. It wasn’t surprising that she’d learned to distance herself.
Nate nodded, and the doctor stepped aside, allowing Laura access to the corpse.
She was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her tone was academic, far from the bright, friendly tones he associated with Laura.
Even her husky Southern accent seemed to fade in favor of a flat, professional cadence.
“Any signs of sexual trauma?”
Caleb shook his head. “None, but I ran a rape kit anyway. She was in the water for awhile.”
“We won’t know how long until we can estimate a time of death.” Nate was cradling his cell in his hand. His face was haggard, and the morning seemed to have worn him down. “I haven’t even figured out when she went missing. Her mother talked to her last week. She was out with her boyfriend.”
“I doubt it was a boyfriend,” Laura murmured.
“It’s too clean,” Caleb insisted.
Laura’s lips pursed in agreement. “Far too clean. This is an incised wound. It’s going to be hard to determine the exact weapon beyond the fact that it was a knife. The killer stood behind the victim.”
“I thought so,” Caleb commented. His gloved finger traced the line of the fatal wound. “It starts high and ends lower on the neck. It’s also deep.”
“Yes, if he had been in front of her the wound would be more shallow. This is professional. There’s no passion in this kill. It was business, pure and simple, and this man takes pride in his work.
There’s a neat efficiency about the kill. You’re looking for a hired killer.” She turned on her heels and frowned at Nate. “Which brings me to why I was looking for you.”
“Laura, it’s going to have to wait.” Nate crossed his arms over his chest. “Right now I need to call some of my old contacts at the DEA.
If this is a Colombian cartel, we need to know.”
“I doubt it, Sheriff, unless Bliss has become the battleground for a nasty little bit of mob warfare.”
Nate turned to Laura. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t think we’re a hot spot for criminal activity. You aren’t dealing with Colombians, but I would like to know why the hell the Russian mob is in town.”
The room was becoming slightly oppressive. Jen stared at the door to the clinic, wondering why it seemed like everyone in Bliss needed to parade in and out of what had just been designated the county morgue.
“Bad business,” Teeny said, shaking her head. Her little beak of a nose was turned down in what looked like sadness. “I can’t believe it.
Would you like some fudge?”
She held out a tray of perfectly cut fudge. She was wearing slacks and a pink sweater, and a lovingly detailed apron.
This was an autopsy in Bliss.
“No, thanks,” she said, giving Teeny a smile.
“I’ll take some, Momma.” Logan reached over and grabbed two squares, giving his mother a thumbs-up. “I’m going to take some back for Hope. Nate left her answering the phones for the day.”
“Me, too,” Rachel said, taking three. The dog at her feet whined.
She frowned at Jen. “Don’t look at me like that. Baby needs fudge.”
“And cookies.” Callie smiled at them, a huge tray of cookies in her arms. “Stella sent them. Apparently tragedy requires carbs. She’s on a tear. She’s been working nonstop. She made like a hundred sandwiches when she found out the Sheriff’s Department was working on a homicide. I had to tell her that there were really only like five people working the case, but then Zane inhaled four sandwiches, and I just let her work.”
“And you didn’t mention this to us, why?” Rachel asked, frowning at Callie.
Callie set the tray on the small reception desk. “First, Nate asked me to keep my mouth shut.”
“Since when has that stopped you?” Jen asked. It was no secret that Callie Hollister-Wright was the hub for information in Bliss.
“This is serious.” Callie pushed her glasses up her nose. “I knew it would upset Rachel, and after what you went through, it should upset you as well. Besides, I only knew they had found a body early this morning. It could have been an accident. We have a town full of tourists. The last thing we need is some sort of panic.”
“That is very mature of you,” Rachel said.
“Thanks.”
But Jen knew what that little frown on Rachel’s face meant, and she agreed with it whole-heartedly. “It wasn’t a compliment. We’re your best friends. You aren’t supposed to hold out on us.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Rachel replied, a finger pointing out in Callie’s direction. “Don’t start talking about your husbands. Who did you call when you put that dent in Nate’s new truck? Should I remind you that it wasn’t Nate? Was it Zane?”
“It was you, and you know it.” Callie crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course I called you. You have a really devious mind. I would never have thought about saying I was installing a satellite radio for his birthday and getting the damage fixed so he never knew about it.”